


Land No

by Gonzolidation



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other, Sex Pollen, The Goggles Do Everything, Unusual Flower Contains Sex Pollen, Virtual Reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 06:30:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20670857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gonzolidation/pseuds/Gonzolidation
Summary: When a ratty old cargo ship has to make an emergency landing on a sketchy planet, one of its crew members discovers that prior inhabitants might have been conducting ... interesting research on the native wildlife.





	Land No

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamkist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamkist/gifts).

> I liked several of the prompts in the original request, so I kind of lampshaded one of the prompts I almost did to go with the one I ended up choosing. Either way, was fun to write. Hope you enjoy!

The perfume had been upgraded to include extracts from the unique flower that Inger had discovered in the gardens behind the mansion. It had only to be sprayed into the air to take effect, and Inger had every intention of inviting her neighbor, Miss Kersten, to tea that afternoon for that purpose before her husband and daughter came home. Yes, it had the makings of a good plan and a great lay.

Inger hoped that Miss Kersten might turn up in the beige sweater from the other day, and —

\----

"I need you to turn off the porn, Trip." A female voice that did not belong to either Inger or Miss Kersten of the beige sweater intruded into the fantasy scenario that the goggles had been playing.

"I'm not scheduled back on the bridge until morning, Manon," Trip complained. "Fuck off."

"I'm guessing you had the volume turned up, then, or you'd hear the alarms." She removed the goggles from his face, prompting profanity. "The ship's landing. We need all hands on deck."

"You didn't give me time to bookmark the –" Trip sighed. "All right. Fine. What broke this time? This had better not be about somebody leaving a popsicle wrapper in the landing gear again."

Manon rolled her dark eyes. "You know it's more complicated than that. One drop of fluid lands on a sensitive circuit, and ... _pop_, just like that, it's out, especially on a cargo ship as old as this one."

"I don't even know why we call it a cargo ship, at this point," Trip grumbled as he fastened his badge to his heavy, oil-spotted gray coveralls. "Let's be honest here. It's a derelict. The only reason it's still flying is because something _really_ important hasn't blown up yet, and it's still cheaper for the company to keep it in the air." He sighed. "I think my goggles cost more than this ship, and there are days when I can't get resolution higher than, what, 240? That's not even the _old_ HD, Manon."

"Well, I'm glad you know the specs on your ancient porn vids, but let's get going." She shook her head, making her dreads bounce from side to side. "The Captain's already upset with you."

Trip hustled after her as she opened the door into the main corridor. "How can you tell the Captain's mad, anyway? The Captain's a blob, and it doesn't turn bright red. It just kinda ... sits there."

Manon sighed, not breaking her stride. "One, _blob_ is a slur. Two, so is _it_. The Captain's a species with twenty-three different genders communicating through different scents that the human nose can't differentiate. We're just lucky that the Captain hasn't been replaced by an algorithm." She paused. "I'm just saying that you should be a little more sensitive, Trip. The Captain has feelings, too."

"If I had a drink for every time you just said 'Captain' instead of a pronoun, I'd already be feeling warm and fuzzy." She glared at him, but they had already arrived at the bridge. "Well, here we are. I guess that's one thing about flying on a ship this size. There's no time for long conversations."

"Just get to your station, all right? You're still the landing gear whisperer."

"There's no whispering involved there. Just a lot of cussing and screaming."

"Whatever. Just go do what you do, and we'll get the ship down."

As the double doors in front of them hissed and squealed open, Trip found himself swallowing any comeback due to the appearance of a bright orange Captain who smelled like high-powered flatulence and expressed extreme displeasure through a monosyllabic voice synthesizer.

\----

"All right," Trip sighed, his ears still smarting from the onslaught of 'UN-AC-CEP-TA-BLE' that he had received from the Captain, "do we know anything about this planet? Is it settled or not?"

"Well –" Manon flipped through a paper book that she had sitting on her console. "– it's not in the computer, but that's no surprise. I can't even tell you the last time the OS was updated." Trip tried not to laugh at that. "But it's here in the old travel manual for this sector, and it says here that it used to be a research planet back when Warlord Drumpf was still in charge. It doesn't say what he was researching, though. If it was something like biological weapons, we might be in trouble."

"Eh, Drumpf's been gone for, what, seventy years? The readings didn't show any recent impact craters, so, if no one was here to fight over anything, it probably wasn't important. That's my reasoning." He noticed that she was grimacing at one of her screens. "All right. What broke?"

"Starboard water tank has a leak," Manon said. "Must've happened during the last jump. I knew I shouldn't have trusted that patch job." She rose from her seat, which squeaked and protested due to its age. "I'm going to have to go replace that, but that also means we're going to need water. How do you feel about going out there and scouting for some? Might give you some much-needed fresh air."

"Much-needed, huh?" Trip grumbled. "I'd smell fresher if we didn't have to ration the water." She glared at him again. "All right. Threat sensors came back green, anyway. I doubt anything's out there to give me grief. At the very least, it's habitable. Sort of. Looked kind of overgrown from orbit."

"Just go. And try not to stray too far outside the initial survey are. You know how our sensors are."

"Yeah, yeah." Trip picked up his trusty survey tool from the glorified closet that served as his station. He only had to smack it against a bulkhead three or four times to get it to start. "I'm off."

"Don't forget the Golden Rule, Trip. You haven't been planetside in a while."

"I know. 'If you don't recognize it, run.' Not my first time down, you know."

"Famous last words. Be safe out there."

\----

_Jungle, huh?_ Trip thought as insects chirped and keened in the dense foliage around him. _Can't say I'm a big fan. Just because it's Earth-type doesn't mean it's safe. Have to find that water fast_.

Protocol dictated that he wear a helmet on any unfamiliar world, but his helmet had failed three months ago due to the cargo ship having no spare breathers, and so he went into the jungle unprotected, so much so that he did not notice the sweet scent that had crept into his nose.

_Water_. He licked his lips. _Starting to sound pretty good_. He used the back of his free hand to wipe sweat from his forehead. _Eh? Heat's not that bad. C'mon_. And his coveralls started to feel tight. _What? Here?_ His cock tented the fabric. _Well, she shouldn't have interrupted my goggle time_.

Trip swung his survey tool from side to side as he walked through the jungle, waiting for the distinct **ping** that would indicate a source of potable water. _C'mon, batteries, you had, what, 14% left before our last jump? Cooperate, damn it_. Several minutes, and his erection had not gone down. _Still? Huh. It's not like this planet has a moon or anything to affect a body's chemical cycles. Right?_

It took him another minute to realize that he had been walking fixedly in one direction without realizing it. _Wait. Where am I going? And why – ?_ He had unzipped his coveralls and unbuttoned his boxers, absently stroking his cock with his free hand. _When did I – ? Something's off here_.

Despite that realization, he continued to walk, no longer bothering to check his survey tool. In fact, he dropped it along the way. _Hang on a minute. I thought I heard the_ **ping**. _Don't I ... need that?_

At one point, he stopped walking, finding himself in front of a plant that was large and thick enough to be a tree, but seemed more like a giant fly trap. _I'm in trouble_. And yet he continued to stand there, stroking his cock. The head of the fly trap descended towards him. _Big trouble. Gotta move_. But he did not move, and the mouth opened up to reveal – _Wait. Huh?_ No teeth. Instead, it seemed more like a very large – _Wow. That's Freudian. Doesn't mean it can't eat me, though_. But it did not bite. Instead, it hovered close to his cock. _Wait a minute. Uh-oh. That's a no-no. Don't put it in the –_ But he did. _I'm dead_. But he was not dead. Instead, he encountered a pleasant suction. _Very_ pleasant, in fact.

It took less than sixty seconds for him to come, and the plant accepted all of it with no fuss, leaving his cock clean and smelling like roses, for lack of a better term. _Well, now!_ The fly trap did not return to its prior status. Instead, it continued to hover where it was, waiting patiently. _Hmm_. It did not surprise him that it only took a moment for his cock to start lengthening and hardening again.

"I, um –" Trip said, addressing the plant. "I guess this means I come in peace?" He almost laughed. Almost. As soon as his cock was fully erect again, the plant attached itself to him, and the suction resumed. _Okay, one more time. That's fine. But, this time, let's –_ He reached into one pocket of his coveralls and retrieved his goggles. _Yeah, I don't care what Manon says. I'm a genius_.

He relished the sensation as he resumed the story of Inger and Miss Kersten ....

\----

"Oh, wait a minute, there it is." Manon was looking at a different edition of the travel manual. "But this is –" She blanched. "Um. Captain. Excuse me. I've got a situation to bring to your attention."

"PRO-CEED," the Captain replied, smelling like a mixture of onions and cabbage.

"I, uh, think we'd better send somebody out to get Trip. He's ... a bit overdue." She coughed into her fist. "In fact, I think I'd better just go and get him myself. We could really use that water ration."

The Captain did not have a chance to reply before Manon turned and exited the bridge at great speed.

The travel manual lay open to a page that read, in large, tabloid-esque letters, "Warlord Drumpf's Secret Sex Resort Uncovered! A Planet Where Literally Everything Is Sexually Active!"

....

Trip and Manon both returned to the cargo ship about six hours later.

**END**.


End file.
